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It’s been four days since Los Angeles became an inferno – and my home became a pile of smouldering embers.
I’m now staying at a friend’s house in La Crescenta, north of the city, after evacuating my condo in the Palisades, 30 miles (48km) away from where the fires first started on Tuesday morning.
I thought we’d be safe here, but with six active fires now burning across the city, nowhere feels safe. So far, LA’s fires have forced more than 179,000 people including myself to evacuate.
Many people I know thought they had found refuge, only to have to flee again.
We’ve had our bags packed by the door, just in case we were ordered to leave for the second time in 48 hours.
On Thursday afternoon, the moment we were dreading happened – we got an emergency evacuation notice.
We panicked, and ran to load the cars again. I checked my car – low on gas – and sent my partner out to find some. He had to drive to four different stations before he found one with any supply.
The alarm, it turned out, was false, a mistake that rattled America’s second-largest city, which was already on edge.
